Chapter 3

Mo Lin was the only disciple under Jiang Chu Ting at the time.

He disguised himself so well, always showing utmost respect to Jiang Chu Ting, without any hint of discontent. For four years, Jiang Chu Ting taught him martial arts, never realizing that this little disciple actually despised him.

It wasn’t until one time when Mo Lin fell ill that Jiang Chu Ting, feeling uneasy, got up in the middle of the night to check on him. He covered Mo Lin with the blanket he had kicked off.

Unexpectedly, just as he was about to reach out to check if Mo Lin’s forehead was still hot, Mo Lin suddenly opened his eyes, sat up abruptly, and retreated to the far corner of the bed. He glared at Jiang Chu Ting with a guarded and hateful expression, as if Jiang Chu Ting was not a caring master but a ravenous beast.

Jiang Chu Ting was taken aback by the look in Mo Lin’s eyes, feeling a sharp pain in his heart, and stood there in a daze.

Mo Lin coldly questioned him, “What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night? Trying to take advantage of me while I’m asleep? Are those filthy thoughts in your head finally too much to bear?!”

Mo Lin had never spoken to him in such a tone before. After the initial shock, Jiang Chu Ting stood up silently. Mo Lin was smart and quick to understand. Jiang Chu Ting genuinely liked him, treating him almost like a younger brother, as they were only nine years apart. He had devotedly taught him swordsmanship over the years, with no other intentions.

But it turned out, Mo Lin had always seen him as a despicable person with ulterior motives.

Jiang Chu Ting felt a chill in his heart, his face pale as he said, “You were sick, so I came to check on you. Rest assured, I have no such thoughts about you…”

“You’re full of crap!” Mo Lin interrupted him with a roar, gritting his teeth in hatred, “Who in the martial world doesn’t know about your shameless deeds? You disgusting pervert! You even lay your hands on your own disciple! Do you really think I don’t know that you always deliberately touch me and sneak glances at me? I’m sick to death of you!”

The so-called touching Jiang Chu Ting could think of was merely correcting Mo Lin’s movements while teaching him swordsmanship. As for sneaking glances, he couldn’t recall ever doing so.

How much must one loathe and reject another to be so sensitive?

Jiang Chu Ting was so upset he almost laughed, asking him, “If you think of me this way, why did you become my disciple? Why not leave?”

“Do you think I wanted to?” Mo Lin grabbed the sword by his pillow, having made up his mind, and said fiercely, “If it weren’t for learning your swordsmanship, who would want to be your disciple? Who would want to endure your harassment?! Leave? Of course, I want to leave! But before I do, I must get back at you!” Before he finished speaking, he drew his sword.

A disciple’s skills couldn’t match a master’s, but his ruthlessness certainly could.

That night, Mo Lin stabbed him in the shoulder and injured four night-duty disciples, then defected from the sect, never to be seen again.

Jiang Chu Ting never expected that after more than seven years, Mo Lin would return on his own and even call him “Master.”

Jiang Chu Ting was puzzled as to why Senior Brother Zhong Hua hadn’t just thrown him out. He looked up at the stern-faced Zhong Hua, who finally spoke, “Chu Ting, this rebellious disciple is yours to deal with.”

Mo Lin straightened up, kneeling on the ground, his dark eyes looking at Jiang Chu Ting.

Mo Lin had shed his youthful naivety, his features more defined, becoming more profound and reserved, almost unrecognizable to Jiang Chu Ting.

However, this former disciple who once loathed him to the extreme suddenly returning couldn’t possibly be out of a guilty conscience, offering himself up for punishment.

Jiang Chu Ting glanced at the poisoned young man in the chair beside him, having a vague guess.

In the back mountain of Nine Heavens, there was a natural medicinal spring. While it couldn’t cure acute poisons, soaking in it for half an hour every few days for one to three months was highly effective for chronic poison. It seemed Mo Lin had come for this.

Jiang Chu Ting then said to Mo Lin, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Mo Lin’s plea for forgiveness from Jiang Chu Ting was merely Zhong Hua’s idea. If it were someone else, he might have used his status to pressure them, but Zhong Hua was stubborn and inflexible, unlikely to yield. This time, he came just to borrow the medicinal spring, so it was best to keep a low profile and not make a fuss, swallowing his pride and doing as told.

Jiang Chu Ting clearly didn’t want to pursue the matter, which suited him just fine. So he immediately stated his purpose.

Mo Lin said, “As long as Master forgives me, the sect leader will agree…”

Zhong Hua’s cold voice interrupted, “I said for you, this rebellious disciple, to accept punishment according to the sect rules. When did I say I would agree? The medicinal spring is only for direct disciples of Nine Heavens, outsiders are not allowed near.”

Mo Lin’s eyes darkened as he slowly stood up, turning to look at Zhong Hua. After a moment’s thought, he didn’t start a conflict, instead saying with a forced smile, “Since the sect leader says so, then let Xiao Jiu become my master’s disciple, and all problems will be solved.” He didn’t mention anyone else because he knew only Jiang Chu Ting was likely to be soft-hearted. Moreover, the so-called apprenticeship was just a formality, like when he first joined.

Ji Chun snorted at this point, “Mo Lin, do you really think becoming a disciple of Nine Heavens is as simple as entering a vegetable garden? You think you can just say it and it happens?”

The young man Mo Lin referred to as Xiao Jiu seemed to have a bad temper. Having waited so long without a resolution, he was getting impatient, lifting his eyelids to glare at him, “I… I don’t want to become a disciple! Mo Lin, stop dawdling, if they don’t agree, just kill them all!”

He was young, his voice still somewhat weak, but there was a bone-deep ruthlessness in his words.

Jiang Chu Ting couldn’t help but glance at him, pausing slightly, then said to Mo Lin, “I won’t take him as a disciple.”

His tone was gentle yet firm, causing Xiao Jiu’s eyes to widen, his body propping up from the chair, glaring at him, gritting his teeth, “What did you say?!” This person had the audacity to reject him?!

If soft words don’t work, is he trying to use force? Mo Lin’s mouth twitched slightly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, fingers caressing the sword hilt, contemplating how to act. Jiang Chu Ting calmly said to Zhong Hua, “Senior Brother, let them stay, detoxify them, and let them leave quickly.”

Judging by Mo Lin’s behavior, this young man named Xiao Jiu was clearly his master. Despite his young age, he exuded a fierce aura, not something developed overnight. Mo Lin was a proud person, and for him to acknowledge someone as his master and remain so loyal, the identity must be extraordinary.

Moreover, the alias Xiao Jiu carried significant meaning.

If he hadn’t spoken just now, Mo Lin might have been planning to act. They must have brought people with them this time. To avoid bringing trouble to Nine Heavens, taking a step back was the wise choice.

Senior Brother Zhong Hua probably knew some inside information, which is why he didn’t throw them out initially.

Sure enough, after he spoke, Zhong Hua didn’t oppose further, but still looked at Mo Lin with an authoritative, unquestionable gaze, “The medicinal spring can be borrowed, but the rules of Nine Heavens cannot be broken. You, this rebellious disciple, deserted and injured Chu Ting and four of our Nine Heavens disciples. Setting foot here again, you must go to the Discipline Hall for the appropriate punishment.”

Mo Lin had stayed in Nine Heavens before, knowing that these combined offenses would result in at least two hundred strokes, essentially a death sentence. A hundred strokes from the Discipline Hall could take a life.

Mo Lin’s eyes were fierce. Agreeing would mean death, not agreeing, his master was in need of him, and wouldn’t do anything for now, but would mark him as disloyal. Zhong Hua was deliberately retreating to advance, wanting to make him suffer.

Mo Lin still remembered how punishments were meted out, and Jiang Chu Ting was even more aware. Jiang Chu Ting knew Zhong Hua was trying to vent his anger on Mo Lin, but so much time had passed, and he didn’t really care anymore.

He didn’t have any lingering master-disciple feelings for Mo Lin, but Mo Lin was no longer the same as before, and such a punishment might be inappropriate.

But he couldn’t publicly contradict Senior Brother Zhong Hua, so after a brief thought, he said, “For injuring Nine Heavens disciples, let him go to the Discipline Hall for punishment. As for injuring me, I’ll personally punish him.” This way, Mo Lin would at most receive thirty-something strokes, but even that would be enough for him to endure.

Before Jiang Chu Ting could finish speaking, Zhong Hua glared at him, but after a moment of contemplation, he agreed, “Do as you say.”

Jiang Chu Ting glanced at Mo Lin, who was also looking at him, his expression unclear as he averted his gaze.

“Senior Brother, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.” Jiang Chu Ting was about to leave when the young man named Xiao Jiu suddenly said, “Wait a moment.”

Jiang Chu Ting stopped, his dark eyes looking at him.

Xiao Jiu slightly raised his chin at him, examining him with an arrogant gaze, his voice not loud but assertive, “The sect leader is right, the rules of Nine Heavens cannot be broken. Since only direct disciples can use the medicinal spring, I’ll reluctantly become your disciple.”

After returning to his wooden house, Wei Jia had already finished eating and was napping on his bed. Jiang Chu Ting had no appetite, so he didn’t eat, instead brewing tea by the wooden window.

Before long, Mo Lin arrived.

Jiang Chu Ting noticed him coming up the stairs and entering, picked up the small boiling sand pot, poured tea into a small cup, and, with his long fingers, slowly blew on the hot steam, took a sip, and said, “I’m not really going to punish you, you can leave.”

His gaze was indifferent, polite yet distant. Mo Lin, however, seemed not to hear, kneeling across the small table, observing Jiang Chu Ting for a moment.

Over the years, he felt he had changed a lot. Occasionally, when he saw his reflection in the water, he found his face increasingly unfamiliar. But time seemed to have stopped for this person; he looked the same as before, showing no signs of aging. Perhaps because he wasn’t planning to practice swordsmanship today, he wore a wide-sleeved blue robe, his ink-black hair tied with a simple wooden hairpin, calmly brewing tea by the window, more like a refined young master than a carefree swordsman.

Mo Lin often recalled the past over the years, admitting that he was indeed impulsive and overly sensitive in his youth. After witnessing things a hundred times more sordid and filthy, he no longer found Jiang Chu Ting’s thoughts at the time worth making a fuss over.

Thus, he sought out this person, sitting across from him. The fact was, seeing him now, being close to him, wasn’t as repulsive as it once was.

Jiang Chu Ting, of course, was unaware of his changing thoughts. Noticing his gaze, he found it strange and asked, “Mr. Mo, is there anything else?”

Hearing this address, Mo Lin was momentarily stunned, about to speak when a boy of about ten years old came running out of the room, it was Wei Jia, still sleepy-eyed, who found Jiang Chu Ting’s figure and asked, “Master, did you call me?”

Jiang Chu Ting chuckled, gently saying, “No, go back to sleep.”

Wei Jia responded with an “oh,” not caring about the extra person, and ran back.

Mo Lin’s expression was indescribable because Wei Jia was sleeping in Jiang Chu Ting’s room.

Jiang Chu Ting noticed his expression and said calmly, “No need to overthink, Wei Jia is my disciple. He finds my bed more comfortable, so I let him sleep there. Besides, even if I liked women, I wouldn’t indiscriminately fall for anyone regardless of age or quality.”

Mo Lin felt as if he was explaining to himself, suddenly unsure of what to say. After a moment of silence, he handed over a thick envelope, “This is Xiao Jiu’s apprenticeship gift.”

Jiang Chu Ting hadn’t taken the young man’s words seriously, didn’t accept it, and said to Mo Lin, “I don’t take disciples.”

Mo Lin almost blurted out, looking at him, “Is it because of me?”

Jiang Chu Ting was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. It wasn’t a mocking, cold, or sarcastic smile, just a simple, brief smile. He pursed his lips and said in a gentle tone, “Not at all.”

He meant no harm, but his clear eyes were filled with sincerity, showing he wasn’t lying. He indeed had taken another disciple named Wei Jia, unaffected by past events. Mo Lin, feeling a sudden embarrassment and awkwardness, emotions he hadn’t experienced in years, didn’t know why he had impulsively asked that question.

After silently berating himself, he quickly adjusted, skipping over the topic, and seriously said to Jiang Chu Ting, “You should accept it. The more you resist him, the more he won’t let it go. Anyway, it’s just a few months here, once he’s gone, he won’t remember you.” Mo Lin knew his young master well, advising Jiang Chu Ting out of goodwill.

That Xiao Jiu indeed gave off a rebellious, difficult-to-handle vibe. As Mo Lin said, his apprenticeship was just a momentary whim, not to be taken seriously. So there was no need for Jiang Chu Ting to take it seriously either.

Jiang Chu Ting’s expression remained indifferent, still not reaching out, only saying to him, “You can leave it.”

Jiang Chu Ting hadn’t spoken, but his actions clearly showed he was avoiding any possibility of physical contact with him. Mo Lin’s hand froze in mid-air, then he withdrew it, placing the envelope on the table.

He was still sitting there, so Jiang Chu Ting asked, “Is there anything else?”

A simple, polite four-word question, yet Mo Lin clearly heard the underlying “Why are you still here?”

Mo Lin’s brow twitched twice before he said in a deep voice, “Xiao Jiu is now also your disciple. To avoid drawing attention and for convenience in using the medicinal spring, I want to arrange for him to stay here with you.”

Although Jiang Chu Ting lived in a wooden house, it wasn’t shabby, with six rooms in total. Excluding his and Wei Jia’s, four were vacant. At this point, there was no need for Jiang Chu Ting to argue over such matters, so he lightly agreed.

Learning that Mo Lin would also be staying, Jiang Chu Ting was about to speak when Mo Lin said, “I’ll just sleep in my old room.”

“Your old room is now Wei Jia’s.” Jiang Chu Ting had specifically arranged for him to stay in the room farthest from his, on the opposite side. If they deliberately avoided each other, they could go a whole day without meeting.

Mo Lin’s lips moved, but he didn’t speak for a long time.

At this moment, the doctor from Nine Heavens came to change Jiang Chu Ting’s bandages, and Mo Lin finally left.

The doctor opened the medicine box, glancing at Mo Lin as he turned the corner and descended the stairs. While taking out medicine and gauze, he casually said, “Seems like he’s from the palace.”

Jiang Chu Ting blinked lightly, softly saying, “Is that so?” Just as he had guessed.

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I’ve revised the synopsis a bit; most of the plot is in the synopsis, and I’ve slightly changed the title. Let me shout once more, if you like it, please add it to your favorites! Favorites are very important! Thank you, everyone!